


Reflections From The Study Of Darkness

by athingofvikings



Series: Reflections [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Canon, Sins of the Father, Spoilers for Season 3, poor Soren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athingofvikings/pseuds/athingofvikings
Summary: Life is a state of change, and change is never easy, especially when everything you know has changed around you.  Soren has to struggle with dealing with his past, his future, and his father's legacy.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (mentioned)
Series: Reflections [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573198
Comments: 12
Kudos: 90





	Reflections From The Study Of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Soren. I'm so proud of his character growth, but, oof, the price...
> 
> So this is set an ambiguous amount of time after the first Reflections one-shot; long enough for everyone to get back to Katolis and things to start settling down a bit.

Soren ran his hand over the frame of the picture where it dangled from the wall, the secret passage behind it visible, and sighed. “I didn’t know about any of this,” he said.

“I suspected you didn’t, but we would still appreciate your help in going through it all,” Opeli said from behind him. She had brought him in here after a discussion with the high council about his father, and King Ezran had approved.

He turned to her, scowling. “Why? I’m not the mage! Claudia was the mage! She was the one who knew about this stuff.”

Opeli nodded; his father’s study was dark, even with the window open and the sun coming in, and it backlit her, making her white robe almost glow. “I know. And if we’d managed to catch her…”

Soren cringed, and for a moment, he was standing on the battlefield beneath the Storm Spire again, having just stabbed his ‘father’ through the heart… his sister looking at him like he was a monster.

He swallowed. “You wouldn’t have been able to hold her. She… she knows a lot.”

With a sigh, Opeli gave him another nod. “I know. And I know that this is difficult for you. But with her on the loose and him having been plotting and doing things… the more we know about his plans, the better, even if he’s gone.”

Soren shook his head. “I was his sword… or at least, that’s what he wanted me to be. Or maybe his knife. In the back.”

Opeli reached out for a moment, hesitated, and then touched him gently on the shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Soren slumped and leaned against the wall. “I’m not really a… _talky_ kind of person.”

One corner of her lips curled up into a smile, and she said, “I know. But you’re carrying a lot around with you right now.” She pulled back and picked up the chair that lay on its side by the table, setting it upright and motioning for him to sit. “It’s all right.”

Slowly, Soren went over to the chair and sat. She leaned against the table, crossing her arms. “I know that he told you… or at least hinted, that you should kill the princes. And you refused, and then he denied that he said _exactly_ that.”

Nodding, Soren slumped in the chair, huffing out a breath. It felt… _wrong_ for him to be sitting in this chair, his father’s chair. 

But _everything_ felt wrong. Like missing a step when going down stairs. 

Ez was king, not his father, walking around with a cape. Clauds… _Claudia’s_ room was empty. 

And Callum’s room was… _full._ He and the elf girl were sleeping together… and doing more than _sleeping,_ from what Soren had heard, both when walking past and from the other guards. It still baffled him as to what Rayla saw in Callum, but he wasn’t going to forget hearing her clear through the door say Callum’s name like _that._

And his dad’s study had ashes in the carpet from one of the guards his father had killed when they’d arrested him; half a dozen had died, and Soren had known them all.

He looked Opeli in the eye. “Why didn’t you kill him when you had the chance?” he asked bitterly. 

She took a deep breath. “I’ve asked myself that question. And I could have. He was resisting arrest. He’d killed a number of the guards. He’d already committed treason. I could have ordered them to and they would have done it.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked. 

She clenched her hand on the edge of the table. “Because he was down, and even though he was saying that he had the power to destroy us all, he was not fighting, and it would have been murder. It would have been against the law.” She sighed. “Maybe I should have. But I believed—still believe—in the rule of law. If I told them to shoot him when he was down… if I broke the rules that time… well, then it becomes easier to do it the next time.” She rubbed at her face with one hand. “And then the next time becomes even easier. And then, somewhere down the line, I’m someone plotting how to achieve my goals without those pesky laws in the way. Like he was.”

He looked her in the eye… and then looked away. 

“And I know that all of the people who are dead because of him since then are on my conscience as well,” she said softly. “But at the same time… I’ve thought long and hard on that choice. And I can’t see myself having made a different choice. Not with what I knew then.”

Soren slumped back in the chair. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” Again, he flashed to that moment on the battlefield. His father, stabbed through… before dissolving into a trio of Moon Moths. But he hadn’t known that it was an illusion. He’d just seen his ‘father’ try to kill King Ezran, and after he’d warned him. 

How could he have done anything else?

He looked up at Opeli. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” she asked.

“How do you know what’s good or bad? How can you _tell?_ Because I tried to do what my dad… what Viren told me to do. Because he’s so good at making the bad stuff seem _right._ How do you keep from doing that?”

Opeli blew air out through her nose in a soft hiss. “That’s a good question, Soren. And I’m proud of you for asking it.” She considered, her lip curled in thought. “It’s hard. I want to say ‘the law’, but the law is only good for so much. I do my best to obey the laws, but at the same time, it is the spirit of those laws that I want to obey, not their letter.”

Soren cocked his head. “What do you mean? I don’t get it.”

Opeli stepped away from the table and started to pace along the rug. “Your fa… Viren held King Harrow’s funeral after less than a day, instead of the traditional period of seven days. And it was obvious why, looking back. He wanted to push for war, push while the people were still off-balance. But the tradition is there for exactly that reason—to give people time to mourn, time to come to grips with their grief, and not make decisions in the grip of anger or high emotion.” She turned to look at him. “So you try to look at the letter of the law… and the spirit, and hold the two together.”

Soren swallowed. “Like how you said that an orphan would be the next king… and Da… and _he_ said that his parents were dead?”

She nodded. “Yes. Exactly. That law is there for a number of reasons, but the letter of the law was simply that—the letter. But he did not fulfill the spirit. And you could tell that, couldn’t you? It felt wrong.”

“I… yeah. It did. But what could I say?” Soren said.

Opeli stepped close and put her hand on his shoulder. “You did what you could. You fought your way free of his influence and walked away. You warned King Ezran and his brother about the army. I honestly feel that you’re doing well in recognizing what is right from wrong.”

“You think so?” Soren asked thickly. 

She nodded again. “I do. You’d been taught your whole life to listen to him and obey him… and when it mattered most, you,” she smiled, “you broke that chain.”

Soren blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh.”

She patted him on the shoulder gently. “Yes. You think on that, and if you have any questions, I’ll be right here, all right?”

He nodded a bit numbly, and looked down as she turned away and walked over to the shelves. 

As she went through the books, Soren thought. 

He’d broken the chain… and in the process, he’d broken his family. He could still hear his sister behind him, begging him not to make her choose.

But she’d chosen.

She’d chosen their father.

And… and he couldn’t bring himself to hate her for that. How could he? She’d never heard the bad stuff that their father had… had _told_ Soren to do. No, their dad had always wanted to make Claudia into the best mage he could, from the time they’d been little kids. But Soren, he’d wanted to make him into a killer. 

He remembered that moment outside of the elf city, where he’d heard… his father say that ‘his son’ would be the first to be _changed,_ and shuddered.

No. He’d wanted to make Soren into a killer _and_ a monster.

Instead…

He’d walked away. Because he’d seen what his father had done, and how his father did it. Like he’d told Callum and the others on the top of the Spire, his father could make evil things sound good, like the best ideas in the world. 

And it had hurt. It had hurt so much. He’d once wanted nothing more than his dad’s approval and love.

And instead, Soren had killed him. 

Except he hadn’t. It had been a fake. 

What _hadn’t_ been fake was the fact that Soren now knew that he was willing to do anything to protect his king. 

He was a Crownguard, and while he’d failed to protect King Harrow, he had protected King Ezran, and not just from the illusion of… Viren. 

He was not a killer.

He was a protector. And he knew that now about himself. 

Getting up from the chair, he looked around his father’s study. It looked much the same as it always did—walls of bookcases and shelves, a fireplace in the corner, some furniture, the big painting on one wall—which led to the secret passages where his father kept his lab. Soren hadn’t been down there yet.

“Opeli?” he asked.

“Yes, Soren?”

“Can… can I see that secret room?”

She turned to look at him, looking a little surprised. “Why?”

“I… I can’t really say why, I just want to see it. For myself,” he said a bit hesitantly. “Can I?”

Frowning a bit, she nodded. “All right. Come on.” 

Soren looked around as they entered the dark tunnel, lit only by weird glowy crystals.

It was… Soren didn’t have the words to describe it. He’d lived in Katolis’ castle since as long as he could remember, and this was the first he’d seen of this place. 

“Did my da… did Viren make this?” he asked as they went past the pillars made of stacked flat rocks.

Opeli shrugged. “I don’t think so… but that’s mostly because I think it’s older than he is. Was. This way.” She motioned for them to turn to the left, away from a darker passage that lead further down, and they came to a spiral staircase that went downwards; old dirty handprints covered the wall on the far side. Ez’s handprints, from what Soren could see.

Swallowing, he followed Opeli down the stairs into another room lit by those weird crystals. 

Bones and horns and stuff in bottles lined the walls, and Soren grimaced at the sight of a skull. Why Viren had kept it instead of burning it like you should do with a body… well, it was for dark magic, no question. All of the little dried or pickled parts and bodies in the room were basically for that, and that alone. 

And there were chains and shackles on the wall to hold prisoners. 

No.

Not prisoners.

Soren swallowed when he realized what they were for… especially with the pliers and shears and knives on the rack on the far wall next to the shelves of glass jars, and the bars of the cell set between two of the stone pillars.

The chains were for holding elves so that they could be _used_ for dark magic… either all at once, or piece by piece. And the cage was for… other magical animals.

For a moment, he pictured Rayla chained up on the wall, next to the other stuff waiting to be used for a spell, and shuddered. She wasn’t a _thing_ to him, not anymore. She was a person, and the idea of his da… of _Viren_ using her life for some spell…

He swallowed again, feeling like he couldn’t dislodge the lump in his throat. “I never knew about this place,” he said quietly. 

Opeli sighed. “None of us did.”

“Claudia knew. Callum said that she knew that the egg was down here,” Soren said tonelessly. “But…” he swallowed _again._ “But that’s how it was with my… my dad. Upstairs, that nice looking room? That’s what he showed everybody… but down here? That’s like his real face, not the fake he used to fool everyone. Touched by dark magic, rotten…” He made a fist and slammed it against the stone. “Ahh!”

Opeli hugged him, and while she was old enough to be his mother, he sank into the hug, shaking. “Why does it hurt so much? I hate him… but, but, but…”

She patted the back of his head and shushed him. “It’s okay.”

“He tried to make me kill Ez! He made me think I killed him! He did… _all_ of this!” Soren felt like his chest was being squeezed on the inside by a dragon’s claw. 

“I know,” Opeli said softly. “It’s okay. You did the best you could.”

Soren pulled himself free of her hug, and she let go after a moment’s resistance, stepping back. “Did I?” he asked bitterly. “I arrested Corvus, tried to kill Rayla—twice!—and tried to kill Ez with an ‘accident’.” 

“But you didn’t kill him,” Opeli said firmly.

“Only because Rayla caught me,” Soren replied, still bitterly. “I wanted… I wanted my dad’s approval and love _so much_ I tried to kill a little kid!” He ducked his head and said quietly, “And… and… I still want his approval. Even though I _know_ that’s the worst possible thing I could get.” He looked up at her. “Can you imagine how terrible of a thing I’d have to do to get it?”

She nodded and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. “I know. But he’s gone, and you’re safe from that. And you’ve already faced that temptation and made the opposite choice.” She squeezed his shoulder. “And of course you still want his approval.”

“How can you _say_ that?” Soren asked. “After everything he did!?”

“Because he was your father,” she said simply. “And parents can always tug on your heartstrings. They’re the ones who tied them in the first place.”

Soren groaned in pain as the words hit home. “So now what?” he said, feeling like the words were sour on his tongue.

Opeli pulled back and said quietly, “I think that’s up to you, Soren.”

“What do you mean?”

“The king trusts you. You did your best when it counted. You are a Crownguard. Not a killer, not your father’s assassin. You are a good man… who stared evil in the face and walked away.” She smiled. “The king already said that he’s not going to judge you for what your father did. Your life is your own.”

Soren swallowed and nodded. “Right.”

She looked at him consideringly. “You asked me how I know what the right thing to do is?” She crossed her arms. “I have my principles and my integrity to guide me. I think you’ve found yours… and now you’re just trying to figure out what to do with them.” She gave him a small lopsided smile that was much warmer than he was used to seeing from her. “And I know that _I_ trust you. Because your integrity has been tested… and it didn’t break.”

Those words hit him, as he remembered that horrible moment in Xadia when he’d realized just how evil his father had be… how evil his father _was._ He’d seen beneath the mask, to see the man who used the room he was standing in. Soren looked around the room, at the stuff of nightmares and pain, at his father’s legacy…

And pulled himself up straight. He wasn’t a mage, dark or otherwise. And his dad had always been disappointed with him for that.

But that meant that the stuff in here wasn’t _him._

He was someone else.

“Thanks, Opeli,” he said quietly. 

She smiled at him. “You’re welcome. Now, come. I don’t like being in here.”

Soren looked around and shivered. “Can’t blame you. Urgh.”

As they made their way back up through the tunnel and back to his father’s ‘public’ study, Soren thought. Sure, everything had changed. Ez was king. And Callum and Rayla were making the bed in Callum’s room squeak—which was still something that boggled Soren’s mind, but he’d _heard_ it. And his dad was gone… and his sister was off somewhere, and probably getting ready to cause problems on her own. There was no way that she was going to take their dad’s death well. 

But he knew who he was, and he knew what he needed to do. 

Protect the king, and serve his orders.

Because he was a Crownguard.

And that was what he would do.

**Author's Note:**

> The plot bunnies came back after the first one-shot was well-received. So the idea for this little series is the children going through the rooms of their parents and reflecting. For now, it will be little; I only have the idea for a third one-shot, with Callum and Ez going through Harrow's room. No idea when I'll get to that.


End file.
